


Give Me Something That’ll Haunt Me When You’re Not Around

by linksofmemories



Series: Rewritten [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Episode: s03e12 Lunar Ellipse, Goodbye Sex, Knotting, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksofmemories/pseuds/linksofmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re leaving and you told Scott,” Stiles said, standing in the middle of the loft and looking accusingly at Derek who was closing the door. “But you couldn’t tell me?”</p><p>“I’m bad at goodbyes.”</p><p>“Goodbyes?” Stiles repeated. “As in never coming back goodbyes?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Something That’ll Haunt Me When You’re Not Around

“You’re leaving?” Stiles asked as soon as the door to the loft opened.

He knew he probably shouldn’t start off what was going to be a heavy conversation (argument) with such a blunt question, but it was the only one he could think of to voice. About 30 minutes ago he had been playing Halo with Scott who had then turned to look at him with a deep frown, paused the game, placed a hand on his wrist, and then very seriously (and Alpha-ly) told him that he was there if he needed to talk.

Because apparently he thought that all of Stiles’ angry headshots were because he was upset Derek was leaving.

And they would have been if Derek had told him.

“You’re leaving and you told Scott,” Stiles said, standing in the middle of the loft and looking accusingly at Derek who was closing the door. “But you couldn’t tell me?”

“I’m bad at goodbyes.”

“Goodbyes?” Stiles repeated. “As in never coming back goodbyes?”

The pause that followed was a little too long for Stiles’ liking. It only extended because Cora was hurrying down the stairs, hair up in a messy bun and a backpack slung over her shoulder. “Sleeping over at Lydia’s. I’ll see you in the morning, Derek.”

She walked right past them, stopping at the door and spinning around to look at Stiles. “Give him hell.”

And then she left with a heavy clang of the door. Stiles looked back at Derek who was looking guilty more than anything. Which was good because he should be feeling guilty.

“Does Cora want to leave?” Stiles asked.

“She doesn’t care,” Derek said. “She just wants a home again.”

“And she has one,” Stiles said. “Beacon Hills is your home.”

“Stiles.”

“No, don’t ‘Stiles’ me. Why the hell are you leaving?”

“I’m not an Alpha anymore, I don’t have any claim to this territory,” Derek explained. “It’s Scott’s now.”

“Then join Scott’s pack.”

The look on Derek’s face was more than enough for him to get that that wasn’t happening. Stiles understood too. Scott had just become a werewolf not even a year ago and Derek had been one his entire life, he didn’t seem like the type to become a Beta for someone like Scott. Or anyone really.

“You can just be the town’s Omega then,” Stiles proposed. “You and Cora can just hang out and if Scott needs some help—”

“Stiles, stop.”

Derek stepped forward, placing his hands on Stiles’ shoulders and taking a deep breath. This was going to be rehearsed, Stiles could already tell. Derek had probably written down his speech and practiced it in the mirror. That must have been why he had waited so long to tell him.

“I don’t fit here,” Derek said. “I haven’t fit here since my family died and I probably won’t again. My place right now is with my sister and finding a place where we can start over. I need to get out of this town and away from all of these bad memories and anything that can possibly hurt us. I’ve been running for almost seven years now and I just—I just want to rest.”

“Then rest here.”

“Stiles—”

“No, no. Shut up,” Stiles cut in. “Sure we kind of made this place a hot spot for supernatural shit, but that doesn’t mean anything. You can still rest. Scott can take care of it all and Isaac and Allison and Mr. Argent. They can take care of it; you can just stay in your loft and not do anything about it. It’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, if there’s a threat to the town there’s no way I’m going to just stand by and do nothing,” Derek sighed, bringing a hand up to cup Stiles’ neck. “And I need to get away from you.”

It was like all of Stiles’ worst (and pathetic and self-centered) dreams were coming true. Because he had told himself a thousand times on the drive over that it wasn’t because of him. Derek wasn’t leaving because of him—that was just stupid.

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do,” Derek said. “I’ve been so selfish with you. You’re 16, you’re not ready for the commitment I want from you.”

“Of course I am.”

“No you’re not.”

Frustration started to grow within Stiles and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. This was so typical of Derek. He was never straightforward with him and always beat around the bush like if he confused Stiles enough then it would all just be dropped.

“You don’t get to put words in my mouth.”

“I do when I know you’re not ready.”

“I think I can figure that out for myself,” Stiles argued. “Y’know, whenever you get around to actually talking about what I’m supposedly not ready for.”

And now it was Derek’s turn to be the one to clench his fists. His eyebrows knitted together and his jaw clenched and he looked like the Derek Stiles had first met all those months ago. The Derek who shoved him into walls and called him an “idiot” and only used him for his vast knowledge of search engines.

He stepped back from Stiles, walking into the center of the loft and running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t hard to see that his shoulders were shaking and Stiles took a step forward.

“Okay, you don’t have to tell me,” Stiles said quickly. “Just calm down. Breathe deeply. We can cross our legs and burn incense and bring up an hour-long waterfall soundtrack on YouTube. Getting angry is seriously—”

“I want to keep you,” Derek interjected, not looking angry anymore, just torn apart. “I want you to be mine and only mine. I want to take you away and start over with just you and me. I want to marry you and have kids with you and start our own pack. I want to be the person you love more than anyone. More than Scott and Lydia and your father.

“And I know I’m never going to have that. I’m never going to have that because you’re going to go to some great college and have boyfriends and girlfriends your own age and maybe never settle down. I can’t stay in this town anymore because I can’t be around you without being the most selfish man in the world.”

It was probably the most honest thing Stiles had ever heard from the older man and it was also the most terrifying. He didn’t know what to think or feel or do, he just stood there.

Because Derek was leaving and it was painfully obvious that nothing Stiles could say would change that.

It wouldn’t stop him from trying though.

“I love you,” he said, stepping toward Derek.

Derek just shook his head, moving away from him. “Dammit, Stiles. Do you not get what’s happening here?”

“I do, I’m not an idiot,” Stiles said. “I just love you and I wanted to say it. And-And yeah, you’re right. I’m not ready for the big commitment and I probably won’t be for a while. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. I want to have a family and I want-I want you. And those two things together sound pretty awesome. But you know what doesn’t sound awesome?”

“What?”

“The boyfriends and girlfriends my own age thing,” he said. “That sounds terrible. Because after you there’s not going to be anyone who could ever compare. I don’t want anyone else.”

He moved forward, erasing the distance between them completely. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s back, tilting his head up just slightly to look the older man in the eye.

“So, if you’re really set on leaving,” Stiles said. “You should give me something that’ll make me remember why no one else is even worth my time.”

“Stiles, I can’t—”

“This is all just temporary,” he continued. “Because we’re gonna see each other again. So, just—just make sure that until you get back, everyone knows who my mate is.”

Derek’s hands made their way to his hips, gripping them tightly. His eyes shut and his forehead pressed against Stiles’. He took this as a signal to keep going, so he continued, moving closer into Derek’s space.

“You know I’m yours, right?” Stiles said. “No matter where you go or where I go, I’m always going to be yours.”

He took the kiss he got as a good thing. And it was a good thing because Derek’s kisses were something of a miracle. Lately their kisses had been heated and rushed (because danger was lurking and romance wasn’t exactly on the table most nights) but now it was all slow and tender. He knew Derek liked it better this way, treating Stiles like he was delicate and breakable and he probably would have been annoyed if he wasn’t so turned on by it.

Derek unbuttoned his flannel, lips moving against his in unhurried easy kisses. Stiles let him push it off his shoulders, but before his t-shirt could be yanked over his head, he brought his hands up to Derek’s hair, moving as close as he possibly could. A hand made its way up his shirt anyway, fingers skimming over his stomach before a thumb came up to rub a nipple.

Stiles made some weird embarrassing noise and Derek smiled against his lips. “Gonna miss that responsiveness.”

“Shut up,” Stiles mumbled against his mouth before yanking at Derek’s shirt. “And take your shirt off.”

“Since when are you the bossy one?” Derek asked, pulling back to take his shirt off.

“Since now,” Stiles said, mouthing at his jaw.

Derek chuckled, hands pushing Stiles’ shirt up so far that Stiles had to move back for him to be able to take it off. It was almost funny, how normal it all felt. It was like this wasn’t the last time.

For a while.

It was the last time _for a while._

Teeth found his neck soon enough and Stiles gripped onto Derek’s biceps, not even feeling like moving as stubble scratched at his skin and teeth made marks. He would have cared, would have told Derek to stay away from his neck because of his dad, but he couldn’t.

His belt was being unbuckled soon and Stiles helped out by pushing his feet out of his shoes. There were a few awkward seconds of him trying to take his socks off with his toes, but Derek lifted him up, forcing him to wrap his legs around his waist.

“You really love that move, don’t you?” Stiles asked. “It’s like I’m a heroine in a romance novel.”

“Well you can always pick me up and carry me to the bed.”

Stupid bastard and his stupid little smug smirk.

And he would have had a comeback if it wasn’t for Derek dropping him on the bed and then proceeding to take his clothes off in front of him. And being a werewolf must have seasoned Derek for not having any body issues because the man always did it like being naked was more comfortable than being clothed. Stiles still hadn’t figured it out; it probably went back to his wolfish roots or something.

God, he didn’t even know.

“Take these off,” Derek said, kneeling on the bed and tugging at the top of Stiles’ pants.

Stiles pushed them down his legs only to get them caught halfway there, resulting in Derek’s smug smirk turning even smugger. He hated him. He really really hated him.

Soon enough he too was naked (and trying not to think about it because thinking never helped him in this situation) and Derek was hovering over him, eyes locked on his face before traveling down his body.

“Stop,” Derek said once Stiles started his self-conscious squirming. “I just want to look at you one last time.”

The words sent a sharp pang throughout Stiles and he reached up to place a hand on Derek’s cheek, tilting his head to look back at him. “Last time for a while.”

Derek didn’t say anything or make any kind of face that gave what he was thinking away. It drove Stiles crazy, not knowing if they were on the same page or not.

“Derek, I—”

“Shh.”

He pressed their mouths together again and Stiles clung to him, not in the mood for talking anymore or for trying to make this seem like it was normal. Like this wasn’t any different from any other time they had done it. Like this entire occasion wasn’t making him slowly crumble away inside.

Derek continued to kiss him, going for places that he had never touched before like the backs of Stiles’ ears and down his arms and on the bottom of his feet. Stiles felt himself trembling by the time Derek was finished and he hated himself for it. Hated how he couldn’t stop thinking about this being the last time they would be like this. Because he was determined to believe that Derek would come back, but for some reason he couldn’t see it being the same way again.

“How do you want this?” Derek asked, one hand cupping the back of Stiles’ neck and the other dropping a bottle of lube down beside them.

“Like the first time,” Stiles admitted.

A small smile stretched across Derek’s lips and he leaned down to kiss him, turning them around so that Derek was sitting up and Stiles was on his lap. The kissing only got more fervent from there, both of them tired of the slow, languid kisses, and feeling the desire for something more.

When Derek’s first finger breached him, Stiles moaned into his mouth, hands digging into his shoulders as they continued to kiss. Usually he would have moved away, tilted his head back to let Derek kiss his neck, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be parted from Derek anymore.

A second finger filled him and Stiles was panting into his mouth, rocking back onto his fingers before rocking forward for his cock to brush against Derek’s. Everything was warm and heady and with his eyes closed it almost felt like an out of body experience. His body was experiencing all of the pleasure Derek was giving him, but his mind couldn’t, too caught up on trying to remember how Derek felt and what he smelled like and what he sounded like and tasted like.

His mouth moved to Derek’s neck when a third finger found its way inside, stretching him and curling in the right spot to make Stiles flat-out moan. Stubble scratched against his lips and Derek’s free hand was digging into his hip as they rocked back and forth on the bed.

Eventually it wasn’t enough anymore and Stiles moved his hands to Derek’s shoulders, bringing their mouths together again.

“Now,” he pleaded against the older man’s lips. “Please, Derek, I need—”

“I know,” Derek said, sounding breathless himself. “God, baby, I know.”

As soon as the fingers slipped out of him, Stiles was moving himself up and positioning right over Derek’s cock. It took every last ounce of patience he had to stay still and wait for Derek to slick himself up. He was finally ready though and not even a second after Derek had moved his hand away did Stiles lower himself down onto Derek’s cock.

They stayed like that for a few moments, both trying to catch their breaths even though they knew that they were going to be breathless again soon. Derek was stroking his back, lips moving down his neck as Stiles’ hands stayed clamped on his shoulders. An idea flickered through his mind though and he moved his hands to Derek’s chest, pushing lightly so that Derek got the hint to lie back.

The second Derek’s back hit the mattress though he was feeling self-conscious again, realizing that this was the first time he had ever been in control before.

“You’re beautiful,” Derek said, hands squeezing his thighs.

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, taking the compliment for once.

Derek nodded and Stiles swallowed nervously, hands still planted firmly on Derek’s chest. He could feel Derek’s heartbeat under his palm, fast and excited but still steady and sure. His own was probably all over the place, but he pushed it out of his mind.

He started to move eventually, going up and down on Derek’s cock and digging his fingernails into the warm flesh underneath him. Derek helped out by thrusting up into him, meeting him halfway and making Stiles feel like the air had been punched out of him. A rhythm was soon found and Stiles was silently cursing himself for not thinking of this sooner. Back when it seemed like they had all the time in the world.

Derek sat up, bringing Stiles closer onto his lap and wrapping an arm around his waist. His hands gripped Derek’s shoulders again and soon he was riding him in earnest, moving up and down while their lips met sloppily in the middle. It was a heady feeling, Derek cursing and grabbing him tighter as he moved faster and faster, each movement sharper than the last. Derek was still meeting him in the middle with his own thrusts and all it took was Stiles tightening around Derek once to have the older man cursing loudly, claws digging into Stiles’ skin as he came inside of him.

Stiles worked himself down on Derek’s knot as he laid back down on the bed, panting softly as Stiles rocked back and forth on the knot. His hands were placed on Derek’s stomach now and his head was hanging low as he felt his orgasm start to approach.

“Come on,” Derek groaned, one hand continuing to press against his hip while the other wrapped around his leaking cock. “Fuck, I wanna see you. Do it, Stiles, come for me.”

And he really couldn’t say no to that. He was shaking when he came, bright burst appearing in front of his closed eyes. It was hard to breathe and he felt like he was losing time almost. When he finally came down from his high his head was on Derek’s chest, knot still nestled inside of him and Derek’s hand leisurely stroking up and down his back.

“Welcome back,” Derek mumbled into his hair.

“Shut up.”

“I’m happy to see you again.”

“You are such an asshole.”

Derek chuckled and Stiles poked him in the side, only to gain more laughter from Derek. He looked up, resting his chin on Derek’s chest and seeing him smiling lazily at him.

“You can’t leave.”

“Stiles.”

“No, don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t say my name with that look on your face. Just, don’t leave. I love you, okay? I’m only in love with you and I’ve only ever been in love with you. I’m yours. I’m not Lydia’s or Scott’s or fucking Deucalion’s. I like being yours and I like being with you and I-I don’t want you to leave.”

He felt like such a kid. And acting like a kid probably wasn’t helping his case since Derek was leaving because he was too young.

“I don’t want to leave,” Derek admitted. “I want to stay here and see you every day. Have you in my bed every day and see you laugh every day, but I can’t.”

Stiles made a face, turning his head into Derek’s skin and frowning. And then he felt like kicking himself because continuing to act like a little kid wasn’t helping anyone.

“How about we talk in the morning?” Derek proposed. “Sleep now and we’ll go through everything in the morning.”

“Okay,” Stiles sighed, knowing that that was probably as good as he was going to get.

**OoOoOoO**

He woke up alone to a cold and empty loft that didn’t have anyone left in it but him. There was a piece of paper next to him along with a key that he assumed was a key to the loft.

_I promise someday I’ll make it to dinner with you and your dad. I love you._

Stiles dug his fingernails into his palm and bit his lip and felt eternally grateful that the loft was empty so that no one was around to see him cry.


End file.
